Victoria’s scowl turned to a dazzling smile as she was seated between the two men.

As soon as the three disappeared behind huge menus, Skye leaned over to Trixie and whispered, “Do you know who that guy with Hugo and Victoria is?”

Trixie shrugged. “He does look sort of familiar, but I can’t put a name to him. Why?”

“Because if he’s who I think he is, I now have a plausible suspect in my grandmother’s murder.”

Ashes to Ashes, We All Fall Down

The next day the weather took a turn for the worse. It was hot and humid, and afternoon clouds portended a storm could break loose at any moment. Skye stood with her parents and Vince in the mirrored foyer of the Reid Funeral Home, waiting to view her grandmother’s body. She tugged at her navy linen suit, which suddenly felt a size too small. Even the strand of pearls around her neck felt as if they had shrunk. The building was supposed to be air conditioned, but too many people crowded in too small a space had defeated even the strongest equipment.

She followed the pull of Vince’s hand through the double doors. It was finally their turn to enter. As the eldest, Uncle Dante and his family had been first. Skye could still hear Aunt Mona muttering from the bottom of the stairs about being last. Minnie and her crew were caught in the middle, as usual.

At first the blast of cool air was a welcome relief, but the subtle odor of death beneath that of the flowers made Skye want to turn and run away. Instead, she drew a ragged breath and turned right, walking toward the front of the room. The bronze casket stood beneath a soft pink spotlight. Huge floral displays on wire stands ranged along both sides.

May was on the kneeler, head bent in prayer. Not being Catholic, Jed stood behind her, his hands folded. Vince guided Skye to their mother’s side and she knelt.

Skye swallowed hard and looked at the wrinkled face of her grandmother. Antonia’s nimbus of white hair was artfully arranged and her features looked peaceful. An emerald-green rosary was entwined in her fingers.

Skye stood, allowing Vince to take her place. She examined the cards on the flowers and plants, and was astonished at the number of arrangements.

Vince and May were finished and Skye rejoined her family as they stood in front of the coffin for a moment of silence. In that instant she vowed, Grandma, I will find out who did this to you. Even if it’s one of us, I know you’d want the guilty person to be punished.

May joined Dante in the line of cushioned chairs in front of the rows of folding chairs. Jed and Vince moved to the back of the room.

Skye looked for Simon. She wanted to run her theory about Hugo by him before she spoke to Hugo himself. Even though Simon rarely agreed with her, he almost always had a unique way of looking at matters that inevitably came in handy.

“So, when I saw Hugo and Victoria eating lunch with the guy from the Castleview housing development company, I knew who had killed Grandma and why.” Skye sat back in her chair.

Simon leaned forward. “Tell me again why Hugo killed your grandmother.”

They were in his office in the back of the funeral home. The door was tightly closed, but Skye still checked to make sure no one was listening. “Number one: Hugo lives far beyond his means, and if he cuts back I’m betting he’ll lose Victoria, not to mention his son.”

“Okay, say we accept that premise even though you don’t have proof. After all, Hugo could make a lot more selling cars than you think. Or maybe Victoria doesn’t care as much about money as she seems to.”

Skye choked on a mouthful of tea. “Right, and Scumble River is the center of culture and elegance.”

He looked at her steadily for a moment. “Ready to go on?” She nodded. “Fine. Even agreeing to all the previous assumptions, how can you get from a simple lunch to this Castleview fellow buying your grandmother’s farm for a housing development?”

“Well…”

“Besides, didn’t you tell me that your Uncle Dante controls the trust? How could Hugo benefit? The money would go to the children, not the grandchildren.”

“There are lots of ways around a thing like that. Dante could be in on it, the trust could be a lot less airtight than we think, or… Hugo may have figured a way around those problems.”

“Maybe. But this is a long way from proof.”

“I’m going to talk to Hugo today. See if he makes any slips.”

“You’d better be extremely careful. If, and I do mean if, Hugo is the killer, it would be very dangerous for him to know you’re onto him.”

Skye bounced up from the chair and faced Simon. “Gee, thanks, I was going to go straight up to him, and tell him I knew what he was up to and that he was the killer. Your way sounds so much better.”

“You’ve always got a comeback, don’t you?” Simon drew her into his arms and whispered against her lips: “So how about an answer to my question?”

Skye gave him a quick kiss, wiggled out of his arms, and slipped out the door without replying.

Back in the visitation parlor, Skye sat down on the folding chair vacated moments earlier by Victoria. She could still smell the other woman’s Obsession.

Leaning close to Hugo, she spoke softly, “Hi, how you doing?”

He gave her a startled glance and pulled slightly away. “Fine. Just fine.”

“Sure is something about Grandma. I always thought she’d just go in her sleep. Hard to believe someone killed her.”

Glancing nervously around, Hugo whispered, “We shouldn’t talk about that now. Someone might hear us.”

“Oh, but we don’t have anything to hide, right?”

“No, no of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.” He mopped his forehead with a large white handkerchief. “It’s just not very respectful.”

“You’re probably right.” Skye forced herself to agree with him. “So, how’s the family? Prescott is in third grade now, right?”

Hugo beamed. “Yes, and then there is talk of double promoting him. We’re waiting for the results of this last year’s achievement test.”

“You must be very proud.” Skye turned slightly. “He’s in the Brooklyn School District, right? You live across the county line.”

“Right. But he goes to a private school in Kankakee.”

“Wow, that must be expensive. Not to mention a long ride. Do they send a bus?”

“It’s costly, but Victoria, I mean, we feel it is money well spent. If for no other reason than the connections he can make.” Hugo took a lighter from his pocket and began sliding it through his fingers. “There are kids at Saint Elmo’s from the best families in a sixty-mile radius. You know, a lot of wealthy people from Chicago have moved out this way to get away from the… from the crime.”

“Yes, I recall.” He was speaking of white flight. Skye frowned, but decided if she wanted to get information from him it would be a mistake to tell him what she thought of his morals and values. “You must be a wonderful salesman. It’s hard to keep up with that type of crowd. Financially, I mean.”

“I make a good living.”

“But Victoria doesn’t work, does she?”

“She takes the occasional interior design job. We both agree that Prescott is her main occupation.”

“Well, selling cars must be better paying than I ever dreamed. Certainly better than being a school psychologist.” Skye laughed self-deprecatingly. “But almost anything pays better than that.”

Hugo smiled stiffly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to step out and have a cigarette.”

He was gone before she could think of anything else to say.

Skye was writing her impressions of her meeting with Hugo in a little notebook when Victoria and Prescott sat down. She slapped the book closed as Victoria inclined her head in its direction.

“What are you writing?” she asked.